about the road being blocked.” Since we no longer had a gate, we blocked the bridge with a John Deere tractor, complete with a backhoe attachment. “I’m going to move the backhoe and let him in. You keep monitoring the news, okay?” I agreed. The bridge was the only entrance to the farm. If you wanted access to the farm, you either had to fly in, swim across the fast moving creek, or drive several miles around to the back of the farm with an ATV and use wire cutters to get through the cattle fencing surrounding the farm. We had earlier agreed that the blocked roadway would at least give us time to prepare if the police showed up.
The old homestead we were currently living in was heated by propane and the fireplace. There was a tank behind the house which needed to be filled every fall. I was wondering what exactly we were going to do next fall. It was definitely something to add on the to-do list. We had a well for water, but the pump was electrically powered. We had a generator, but it was dependent on fuel. We had a large fuel tank near the barn for all of the farm equipment, but it would not last forever. Still, all in all, Rick had gotten the farm equipped pretty decently. He had a root cellar stocked with canned goods, a barn full of tools, ammo reloading gear, and various other types of equipment. We had a smoke house, a deep creek that had fish, a chicken coop with brooding hens, and Rick had harvested from the garden just last month.
I stood at the back door and watched the man transfer propane from his tanker into the large cylindrical tank. The name tag sewn onto his work shirt read Junior. I certainly hoped it was a nickname and not his Christian name. He was grossly overweight, which made every little movement a major effort for him filled with panting and grunting. He had to wear suspenders because I don’t think they made a belt big enough for him. I noticed Rick was keeping a fair amount of distance from him. He was also wearing a handgun in a holster attached to his belt. Junior either did not notice or did not care. We all paused in our thoughts and actions to look skyward as a sortie of military aircraft flew overhead.
Junior pointed at them. “My brother-in-law is in one of them planes. He’s a staff sergeant in the National Guard. They got called up this morning. He wasn’t supposed to, but he sneaked a call to my sister.” He looked over at me. “You see, we’re not related by blood. He’s married to my sister, that’s what makes him my brother-in-law.” Well no-shit Junior. Thank you for the edification.
Satisfied he had successfully bestowed some wisdom upon me, a mere child, he spit a gob of tobacco juice, some of which did not make it clear of his ample gut. He casually wiped at it with his meaty hand and looked at Rick. “He told her there was some serious shit going down. After I get off work today, we’re going to the grocery store and stock up.” He looked somberly at Rick and lowered his voice. “You two should do the same.”
Rick gave him a serious nod of acknowledgement. “Very good advice Junior. What else did your brother-in-law have to say? Did he tell you where they’re going?”
Junior shook his head. “No, no he didn’t.” This time had the clever idea of bending forward this time. He also increased the amount of pressure between his lips which gave a higher trajectory of the spittle. He was rewarded with a clean shot. He nodded in satisfaction. I’m sure Missus Junior would have been proud.
“But he said they had them loaded up on the planes quicker than they ever had before, and they got issued live ammunition. He said they haven’t done that since their unit got deployed to Iraq.” He wiped his mouth of leakage. “He’s a genuine war hero. Probably the only one
The old homestead we were currently living in was heated by propane and the fireplace. There was a tank behind the house which needed to be filled every fall. I was wondering what exactly we were going to do next fall. It was definitely something to add on the to-do list. We had a well for water, but the pump was electrically powered. We had a generator, but it was dependent on fuel. We had a large fuel tank near the barn for all of the farm equipment, but it would not last forever. Still, all in all, Rick had gotten the farm equipped pretty decently. He had a root cellar stocked with canned goods, a barn full of tools, ammo reloading gear, and various other types of equipment. We had a smoke house, a deep creek that had fish, a chicken coop with brooding hens, and Rick had harvested from the garden just last month.
I stood at the back door and watched the man transfer propane from his tanker into the large cylindrical tank. The name tag sewn onto his work shirt read Junior. I certainly hoped it was a nickname and not his Christian name. He was grossly overweight, which made every little movement a major effort for him filled with panting and grunting. He had to wear suspenders because I don’t think they made a belt big enough for him. I noticed Rick was keeping a fair amount of distance from him. He was also wearing a handgun in a holster attached to his belt. Junior either did not notice or did not care. We all paused in our thoughts and actions to look skyward as a sortie of military aircraft flew overhead.
Junior pointed at them. “My brother-in-law is in one of them planes. He’s a staff sergeant in the National Guard. They got called up this morning. He wasn’t supposed to, but he sneaked a call to my sister.” He looked over at me. “You see, we’re not related by blood. He’s married to my sister, that’s what makes him my brother-in-law.” Well no-shit Junior. Thank you for the edification.
Satisfied he had successfully bestowed some wisdom upon me, a mere child, he spit a gob of tobacco juice, some of which did not make it clear of his ample gut. He casually wiped at it with his meaty hand and looked at Rick. “He told her there was some serious shit going down. After I get off work today, we’re going to the grocery store and stock up.” He looked somberly at Rick and lowered his voice. “You two should do the same.”
Rick gave him a serious nod of acknowledgement. “Very good advice Junior. What else did your brother-in-law have to say? Did he tell you where they’re going?”
Junior shook his head. “No, no he didn’t.” This time had the clever idea of bending forward this time. He also increased the amount of pressure between his lips which gave a higher trajectory of the spittle. He was rewarded with a clean shot. He nodded in satisfaction. I’m sure Missus Junior would have been proud.
“But he said they had them loaded up on the planes quicker than they ever had before, and they got issued live ammunition. He said they haven’t done that since their unit got deployed to Iraq.” He wiped his mouth of leakage. “He’s a genuine war hero. Probably the only one
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